


The Marner/Matthews Chronicles

by scriba_vindex



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Auston is lovably Auston-like, Coming out in the NHL?, Cuddling, Essentially a collection of short stories, Friends to Lovers, Fun, M/M, Maybe they'll go to Disney World just for fun, Miscellaneous appearances by teammates, Mitch has unlimited energy, Nylander's Hair, They are friends that sort of feel things for each other, They're also neighbours, random shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-02-07 12:46:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12841470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scriba_vindex/pseuds/scriba_vindex
Summary: Or, the everyday shenanigans and happenings that intersect the high-octane lives of Mitch Marner and Auston Matthews. Who might also be sort of in love with each other…





	1. The Pillows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing maple leafs-related in this work and (unfortunately) it's all a work of fiction. :)

Mitchell Marner had an understated appreciation for pillows. The way they elevated every movie-watching experience with their plush squishiness; the way they unabashedly cradled one’s body through all the rigours of marathon gaming sessions; the way they transformed sleeping into a magnificent spectacle of comfort (Mitch’s nightly collapse into his own bed was akin to the burrowing of a woodland mammal into a cozy den for winter hibernation); the way they could be lovingly crafted into sensational forts…

Okay, maybe Mitch’s thing with pillows was more of an obsession. 

He told himself it wasn’t that weird; of all the weird infatuations that’d been discovered within the Leafs’ diverse roster Mitch’s was reasonably tame…

For instance, Hyman had a concealed addiction to Broadway Musicals, which Mitch had uncovered after dicking around on Zach’s phone and coming across a Phantom of the Opera playlist. (Mitch continued to hold that knowledge over Hymie to this day) 

Komarov had a remarkable affinity for sweet potatoes and insisted on forcing them into every consumable form imaginable; in cookies, mashed, sliced on sandwiches, dipped in salsa…once Leo had even tricked Mitch into drinking a nasty sweet potato smoothie by claiming it was creamsicle-flavoured. 

Brownie took the cake, though, with his refusal to ever appear anywhere without socks on his feet. Literally, the guy even had a pair of “shower socks” that he wore into the shower, with the water running and everything. When asked why by his baffled, snickering teammates, he’d cracked an unflappable smile and responded, “I don’t like feet.”

The point was, Mitch felt his weird thing for pillows was perfectly acceptable. So, he unashamedly filled his apartment with them. For the most part, his visiting teammates never questioned this choice, since, he supposed, pillows went hand-in-hand with cuddling, another of Mitch’s odd affinities. 

The pillows only became a whole thing because of Auston. 

Auston; Mitch’s wise-cracking, stubborn, undeniably fierce best friend and teammate, who also happened to be a virtual hockey demigod in Toronto. 

When Auston and Mitch had first grown close at training the summer before their first season with the Maple Leafs, brought together by a love of memes and gaming, they’d proven an immaculate match of complementing personalities.

Where Mitch was boisterous loud, and inevitably the centre of attention in nearly any situation, Auston was soft-spoken, introspective, and often okay with keeping to himself. 

Of course, Auston keeping to himself had quickly turned into keeping to himself and Mitch. The two spent most their off-ice time together; taking turns driving from place to place, sharing meals, sharing laughs, gaming well into the night on their days off, training together at the gym, and generally learning the ins-and-outs of how each other functioned. 

This near co-dependence inevitably developed into Auston moving into the same building as Mitch; in fact, they lived just a few steps down the hall from one another. It was with great joy and exuberance that Mitch burst unannounced into Auston’s new digs for the first time. 

“Matts!” Marner reeled joyously, practically skipping past the propped-open door. “Hope you’re cool that I just sorta walked in…”

“Do I have a choice?” an exasperated but underhandedly bemused voice replied from another room. 

Auston emerged from his new bedroom, looking dishevelled despite half-hearted efforts to smooth his wayward brown hair. 

“Not now you don’t…” Mitch replied deviously, engaging Auston habitually in their usual clasp-and-duck handshake. “…now that we’re _fucking neighbours!_ ” he finished excitedly, giving a ridiculous little dance. 

He noticed Auston’s weary but collected expression breaking at the edges into a hint of a smile (For Auston, that was a lot). To anyone else it might have gone unnoticed, but to Mitch it was sufficient to make his heart flutter in his ribcage. 

“Give me the grand tour.” Mitch begged, shooting his signature, near-permanent smile back at Auston. 

Matts conceded (for who could say no to Mitch Marner) and showed him around the neither tiny nor excessively roomy apartment. 

As they returned to the living area, Mitch began casting doubtful glances at Auston’s stone-grey couch. 

“Where are your pillows…” He muttered in honest confusion, “…there weren’t any on your bed either!” 

“I don’t really do pillows.” Matts admitted casually in his usual level tone. 

Mitch eyed him as if he had three heads. “How am I only learning this now?” 

Auston shrugged, looking slightly amused at Mitch’s over-theatrical pillow antics. 

“We gotta fix, this, man…”

“What do you mean, fix this?” Matts answered amusedly.

 _“So wrong…”_ Mitch mouthed back at him.

“It’s my apartment.” Auston insisted. “And I just don’t really give a damn about pillows…”

Mitch looked legitimately offended at this statement. “We both know that I will be spending at least half my time here,” he started, causing Matts to roll his eyes, “which means I will require a pillow. A Mitch pillow. A _Millow._ ” 

“I was going to allow it until you called it a _Millow._ ”

“-Whatever. Look, this is the moment where you choose. Me or your stupid barren couches and empty bed.” Mitch countered theatrically. 

Auston shrugged. “You have permission to place a single pillow in this apartment.”

Mitch gave a slo-mo fist pump and immediately turned heel and rocketed down the hall to his own apartment, returning a moment later with the largest, most obnoxious pillow he could find. 

Auston said nothing but smirked to himself as Mitch plunked the squishy mass down on his couch (which it took up nearly half of). 

For weeks Auston stubbornly refused to acknowledge Mitch’s occasionally overzealous usage of the pillow whenever they hung out in his apartment. Marner loved putting on a big show, lounging about and cuddling ridiculously with his enormous pillow. 

And Auston was happy with his largely pillow-free life, until one day he made the mistake of accidentally making contact with the _Millow._

He’d come back to his apartment alone after morning skate for a quick nap, and gave in to his apparent exhaustion immediately by flopping on the couch. However, to what was initially great horror, he landed right on top of Mitch’s stupid fucking pillow. He’d been religiously avoiding the thing for weeks out of pure spite, but in a moment of weakness found himself draped on top of it. And goddammit it was comfortable. 

He’d meant to extract himself and move on as if the incident had never happened, but the pillow was cozy and smelled like Mitch- a smell that Auston caught himself, offhandedly enough, enjoying- and soon he’d fallen asleep atop the pillow. 

When Mitch dropped by later to pick up Auston for their drive to the evening’s game at the ACC, he was elated to walk in to his best friend snoozing on the _Millow_. He said nothing to Auston in the moment, but devised in that moment a gradual, cleverly hatched transformation of Matts’ pillow situation. 

For the next month Mitch had brought a new pillow with him every time he entered Auston’s apartment, and slowly the barren couch and bed became crowded with glorious, heaping mounds of _pillows. Pillows everywhere._

Marner waited for Matts to say something, but oddly enough his friend seemed to just kind of be rolling with it, despite how pushy he had been initially about the whole pillow thing. Mitch didn’t question it, since he was having the time of his life getting to buy new pillows every other day. 

One night when the two flopped down among the many pillows now littering Auston’s grey couch to play some Call of Duty, Mitch finally cracked and burst out laughing. “This is a very pillow-ass couch, even for me.” he admitted.

“I don’t mind.” Auston responded sheepishly, glancing over the pillow mountain at Mitch. 

“Admit it, you love them.” Mitch quipped happily, sensing he’d thoroughly won this battle. 

Matts shrugged and cracked another minute smile, “They’re not terrible.”


	2. The Mascot

It was widely known that the Toronto Maple Leafs had a loveable polar bear mascot named Carlton, who made regular appearances at every home game. 

Most of the Maple Leafs players did not give their mascot a second thought…but Nylander and Marner did. To the other, each had confidentially admitted to having an unexplainable desire to try on that stinky, heavy-ass polar bear suit, for no reason at all other than to see what it was like in there. 

Thus, when the bag containing the costume landed conveniently outside the back door to their dressing room an hour before a Tuesday night game at the ACC, it was Willy who noticed, and Willy who acted on this observation. 

“Mitchy.” He whispered, his eyes wide as he elbowed Marner, who was in the midst of re-taping his stick. “Destiny has delivered us a gift.”

“You’re so fuckin’ dramatic, Willy-“ Mitch started with a goofy smile, his words trailing as soon as he eyed the distinctive bag containing the pieces of Carlton. 

“Holy shit.” Mitch countered, his eyes growing, (if possible) even wider than Willy’s. 

Nylander gave him a scheming look. “I will give you $100 after this game if you sneak over there and put on that costume.” 

“Make it 200 and it’s done.”

Willy gave a small nod and watched as Mitch rose casually, feigning a ridiculous stretch. On Marner’s other side, Auston cracked a miniscule smile at Mitch's overzealous stretch, but didn’t look up from his own stick taping. 

Mitch managed to slither into the hallway undetected, aided largely by a sudden commotion on the other side of the change room (Kadri and Martin had reopened the team’s cats vs. dogs debate, which was a very frequently addressed dressing room subject).

Meanwhile, out in the empty hallway, Mitch assembled the ridiculous mascot costume. It smelled like feet and made the wearer virtually blind, but he was pleased with the experience nonetheless as he stood for a moment under the mascot’s immense bulk. 

He was about to pull out his phone and snap a picture as evidence when he heard someone approaching around the corner. 

Marner had no idea what the punishment was for stealing your own team’s mascot costume, but he didn’t want to find out; therefore, his rather panicked and immature reaction was to dart the other way. A couple of turns later (through the mostly-empty hallways behind the dressing room) Mitch reached a solid door, which he pushed his way through without hesitation. 

He was shocked to find himself tumbling outside, suddenly standing in the plaza in front of the Air Canada Centre. 

With a jolt, Mitch heard the door shut behind him, and rushed back to try to pry it back open.

“Shit.” He muttered, dumbfounded, as he realized the door was locked.

* * *

Back in the dressing room, Nylander glanced frantically at the doorway Mitch had so secretively snuck through moments ago. _Where has that idiotic boy gone?_ He thought anxiously to himself. It had been much too long since Mitch had left…

At that instant, Rielly seemed to have decided that it was time for their dryland warmup. 

“Let’s get moving, guys; it’s time to hit the gym.” Morgan called insistently, receiving grumbles from many of the surrounding Leafs. Hyman seemed reluctant to peel himself off the floor, where he had been contentedly napping. 

Rielly cast Komarov a glance as if to say, Can I get a hand, please? And Leo obliged with a hearty “MOVE YOUR ASSES!” which incited a great increase in the players’ efficiency and alertness. 

Willy followed slowly, casting the back door a final reproachful look. 

“Where’s Mitchy?” Auston piped suddenly, snapping Nylander’s gaze back to his exiting teammates. 

Willy emitted a jumble of incoherent words and gave a (probably extraordinarily fake-looking) shrug of confusion.

Matts raised an eyebrow, “He was just right here…” 

“What can I say, the boy’s a wanderer.” Willy reeled, realizing that he was smiling uncharacteristically and immediately trying to wipe the grin from his face. “He’ll probably meet us at the gym.” He added slightly more convincingly.

“Hope so.” Auston agreed, suspicion edging his tone. 

“I really hope I didn’t hear what I think I just heard.” Rielly muttered exasperatedly, appearing by Willy and Auston’s side, “If we’ve somehow managed to lose Mitchell fucking Marner Babs will skin us alive and then put us through the mother of all bag skates.”

Willy looked both amused and slightly sick, but kept his mouth firmly shut. 

“He literally walked in here with me like 20 minutes ago! No way Mitchy’s gotten far.” Auston assured Mo levelly.

Across the room, Martin had apparently heard Auston's words, for his head appeared above the crowd. “Hold up- we lost Mitch?!?”

* * *

In truth, Mitch didn’t really feel particularly lost. He knew exactly where he was, (in the ACC’s front plaza off Bay Street) and the life of a mascot suited him surprisingly well. 

Moments ago as he had stood before the locked door in a frozen panic, he’d felt a tiny tug on his left paw, and looked down into the eyes of a smiling little girl. Half-dazed, he’d stood with her for a picture. Her parents had had no idea the idiot in the Carlton suit was the one and only Mitch Marner. 

A few photos later, Mitch had shaken off his daze, and found himself really coming into his own, mascot skills-wise. He posed with more than a dozen fans, his excitement and enthusiasm spiking with each photo. He even started throwing a few dabs into the later shots. 

Only problem was, he needed to devise a way to get back to his teammates, ideally without them connecting that he was wearing a polar bear costume. He knew they’d be off in the ACC’s workout space now, going through the motions of off-ice warmups, but to get there first required getting past the guards at the ACC's front doors. 

A small lineup of early entrants for the night’s game had formed by one turnstile, so Mitch tagged along dimly, feeling like an idiot as he stood at the end of the line outside his home arena in a polar bear suit. 

When he arrived at the front, the guard eyed him from head to toe in confusion. 

“I’m Mitch Marner.” He whispered sharply from behind the Carlton mask. “You gotta let me inside, sir; warm-up’s already started-“

“-And I’m Wayne Gretzky.” The guard deadpanned, his face a stern mask of its own. “Get back out there and finish your shift, Steve.” 

“No, listen! I’m really Mitch Marner-“ Mitch interjected, trying frantically to remove his own helmet. 

“Next!” The guard shouted firmly, ushering Mitch to the side.

Internally cursing, and slightly more panicked now than before, Mitch exhaled sharply. _Why can’t I get inside my own frickin’ arena???_ He wondered to himself in frustration. _I guess this serves me right for listening to Willy…_

A loudspeaker chose that moment to chime in with _two hours to puck drop…two hours to puck drop…_ as if to compound Mitch’s troubles. 

Inside his head, Mitch could almost hear Babcock chiding, _what’re ya’ waiting for, Marner? If you showed me speed like this on the ice I’d have you transferred to the KHL…_

So, Mitch decided to take the idiot’s route and fight his way inside the ACC. He got his legs moving and immediately tried to jump the nearest turnstile, sort of making it, until one of his frickin’ Polar Bear feet got caught on the top bar such that he fell on his face. Luckily the stupid bulk of the costume cushioned his fall, and in an instant, he had scrambled to his feet and taken off as fast as the Carlton costume would allow. 

“Hey, you! _Get back here!_ ” the guard shouted at him from back at the gates. 

Mitch didn’t look back, but he heard the footsteps of a trio of guards pursuing him.

Normally, Mitch was the fastest guy on the Maple Leafs by a mile (he could whip Auston so badly it was almost embarrassing…) but with the enormous bulk of the mascot costume, things were a little more interesting. It didn’t help that this was not his usual entrance, so he had very little idea where he was going…

* * *

“I’m worried about Mitch…” Auston muttered distractedly as he worked through the usual collection of pre-game squats, lunges, and stretches. 

“Dude, I’m sure he’s fine. Probably just ran out of Skittles and had to stock up before the game or something.” Zach reassured him detachedly. 

“…but what if he got kidnapped or something.” Matts added very quietly, his voice low and skeptical.

Zach shot him a weird look. “Mitch is like, the most adorable boy in Toronto. No one would do anything to him…it’d be like smothering a puppy.”

“The degree of comfort that you are offering me right now is out of this world, you know that?” Auston muttered dryly, entirely unconvinced as he pulled his leg upwards for a stretch. 

Hyman raised an eyebrow at him and went back to his own stretches. 

Suddenly, a flash of blue and white streaked by the window to the warm-up room, tailed closely by ACC security guards.

“What the hell was that?” Gardiner chided amusedly. 

Behind him, Nylander choked on the water he had been drinking. 

An instant later, the offending blueish blur stumbled into the workout room, collapsing on its knees as it was revealed to the Leafs players to be none other than Carlton the Polar Bear, their own mascot. 

The bear raised its paws in surrender, breathing heavily. “I made it!! I…found…you!” Carlton panted laboriously. 

The bear struggled with his ‘head’ for a moment, before harshly extracting it with a loud pop. 

The removal of the mask revealed none other than Mitch himself, reddened from exertion, panting heavily, and beaming in triumph. The expression on the guards’ faces behind him morphed from frustration to appalment at their own guise, having just discovered that they had chased Maple Leafs royalty around the ACC for nearly ten minutes. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Auston saw Naz raise slowly raise his phone and snap a picture of the scene, a barely concealed smirk on his face. 

Auston caught himself nearly bursting into laughter (a very uncommon occurrence) as he regarded Mitch with a mixture of relief and hilarity. 

“Pay up, Willy!” Mitch called out frenziedly through his enormous grin, still on his knees in the mascot costume. 

All heads turned to Nylander (who had some serious explaining to do) as he gave a small, terrified, deer-in-headlights smile.


	3. The RV

“I know it’s excessive, but you’ll be thanking me in about six hours when you’re not all killing each other.” Matt Martin promised his younger charges.

“Yes, dad.” Mitch replied quickly with a smirk, earning him a shooting glance from Martin. 

Behind them, an enormous, overly fancy, glistening rental RV was parked in the ACC parking lot, all packed up and ready for an impromptu one-night Leafs camping trip up north. 

One week ago, Martin had made the mistake of jokingly suggesting to the team that the “only real way” to spend their upcoming four-day break would be in an RV in Algonquin Park.

He hadn’t planned on Mitch holding him to it, but, here they were. 

Martin, as the main offender in suggesting the whole thing, had been nominated to drive. For his passengers, Marner would be joined by Nylander, (who needed little convincing to come along, responding “the woods are my aesthetic”) Rielly, (who was sent along by Babcock because “if I send two dads they’re more likely to come back in one piece”), Hyman, (who just seemed happy to be included) Kadri, (the only one with any camping experience) and Matts. (who was begrudgingly dragged along by Mitch “I cannot bear to leave you behind” Marner)

And so that morning the attending Maple Leafs piled into the 12-person RV that Martin had booked and found it to indeed be a little excessive. 

“I thought you brought me because I’m the only one who can pitch a tent?” Naz complained bewilderedly as he admired the RV’s enormous flat screen TV. 

“I got a deal on the biggest one!” Martin objected, taking up his spot in the driver’s seat. “Trust me, buddy, this is better.”

At that instant, a loud thud echoed from down the hall as Mitch fell off one of the RV’s bunk beds, immediately insisting he was unharmed. 

Rielly gave Martin a knowing _we’re about to spend forty-eight straight hours with that- you sure about this?_ kind of look.

“Everything will be fine.” Martin promised, raising his hands exasperatedly. 

Suddenly, Mitch and Auston’s favourite Drake playlist came over the RV’s speakers. 

Matt put on his seatbelt aggressively and hit the gas. “I’m driving us out of here before any of you can even think about getting off this RV.”

* * *

Auston reclined on the bottom bunk of one of the RV’s three bunk beds, watching the Ontario landscape zoom by with headphones over his ears and his cap pulled low over his eyes. The fire Marnatthews playlist he’d hooked up an hour ago upon their departure had long been replaced by smooth jazz, which Martin insisted was _“far better driving music”_. Auston didn’t mind. Headphones gave him an excuse to feign sleep. 

It seemed he had hardly rested ten minutes before Mitch bounced onto his bed, flopping down beside him in his usual, cuddly, Mitchy way. The way Mitch fit himself to Auston’s body as he snugged in closely and threw his arm over Matts’ chest would have earned him an enormous shove off the bed if he’d been anyone else; luckily, he was Mitch. 

_“Are we there yet?”_ Mitch whispered playfully, ignoring Auston’s total lack of reaction to his presence. 

Marner proceeded to draw closer, until his lips were inches from Auston’s right ear. He then proceeded to perfectly imitate the lip-popping noise that Donkey made in _Shrek 2._

At this, Matts broke into an unrestrainable, controlled smile, (though his eyes remained closed under the brim of his hat) and Mitch laughed in satisfaction at the sight of it. The sound warmed Auston's supposed-to-be-sleeping heart. 

Mitch rolled away from Matts’ side and slid off the bed, immediately off to find another victim. Auston experienced a sharp tinge of disappointment as he felt Mitch’s weight leave the bed, already missing the familiar warmth of having Marner pressed against his side. 

He cheered up, though, as he heard Mitch pull the same _Shrek_ stunt on a sleeping Morgan Rielly, which caused the assistant captain to bolt upright and curse loudly.

“Language.” Martin mused half-assedly from the front of the RV. 

Dad, indeed.

* * *

A few hours later, as darkness was falling, Martin was nearing his wits’ end, having gotten them quite lost some time after Gravenhurst because the absence of cell service, and consequently, GPS navigation. 

Mitch had dug around by the passenger seat and come up with a very old, very suspiciously stained paper map. He had unfolded it and held it up. 

“Which way is forward?” he’d quipped after turning the map around several times. 

“Sometimes I get very worried for this generation.” Hyman had breathed with a sigh, wandering over to grab the map out of Marner’s hands.

“You don’t need a college education to read a map, Hymie.” Mitch had insisted sassily, crossing his arms. 

“Oh, okay Mitch. Which direction are we headed, again?” 

“…Weast.”

“I hope you’re kidding.”

“Eh! Boys! Forget the map! Look what dad found _all by himself_.” Martin interjected suddenly, his eyes bright and his posture taller despite his generally haggard appearance. Matt gestured dramatically to a green sign on the right side of the road, reading Welcome to Algonquin Provincial Park.

“Five hours and thirty-six minutes later.” Kadri teased with a smirk, glancing at his phone. “Ready to see some Canadian Wilderness, Papi?” Naz added with a playful glance at Auston. 

“I need you all to be one hundred percent serious with me,” Auston answered flatly, “are there bears in this forest? ”

“Yes, Auston.” Mitch replied, his face deadpan. “Lots of polar bears.”

* * *

That night, after many hours of gallivanting in the woods of Algonquin (where, Auston had discovered, to Mitch’s great amusement, there were apparently no polar bears, only brown ones…) Matts was safely tucked back into his bunk on the RV. All the other guys were asleep except for Willy, who was taking the world’s longest shower in an attempt to remove the twigs from his precious hair. 

The RV was peacefully tranquil and quiet. Maybe Martin did have a point about camping on days off…

Suddenly, Auston heard a shift in Mitch’s bunk above him, and as if on cue, Mitch stealthily swung himself down to the lower bunk, his weight flopping once more onto Auston’s bed. 

Matts feigned sleep as usual and allowed Mitch to settle into his usual place against his side. 

Camping definitely wasn’t so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please let me know what you think- which stories are your favourite, what you'd like to see more of, who you'd like to make an appearance...
> 
> Hope you enjoy the misadventures of the Maple Leafs as much as I do, and check back for more fun drabbles. :)


	4. The Dark

It was an ordinary evening of gaming for Mitch Marner, Auston Matthews, William Nylander and Connor Brown; at least, until the power went out. 

The tetrad of teammates had gathered post-practice in Mitch’s apartment for a hardcore Call Of Duty session. All four had been having a grand time getting out their anger over the previous night’s loss and chirping Matts on his lack of gaming skills, (Auston got the last laugh on that matter by teaming up with Mitch to decimate them back in a later round) when suddenly Mitch’s flat screen flickered dangerously. 

There was barely time for Marner to utter an expletive before the TV (and all other light sources) went black for good. 

The teammates sat motionlessly in the darkness for a moment, the silence only broken by Brownie’s eventual muttering of “well that’s fucking annoying.”

Auston glanced out Mitch’s vast windows over the blackened city of Toronto. “Looks city-wide.” He declared despondently, unable to read the other guys’ expressions through the shadows. “Mitchy, where are your flashlights?”

He was greeted by silence, but felt Willy and Connor turn to glance at Mitch. 

Marner slowly held up his phone and laboriously pressed the flashlight function, its weak beam of light pathetic in the pressing darkness. His face held a weak, _your-expectations-are-a-bit-too-high_ smile. 

“You’re so good at adulting, you know that?” Willy chimed in sarcastically. 

Auston saw Mitch smirk through the shadows and sighed to himself theatrically. “It’s okay…I got it.” He proclaimed with exaggerated exasperation. Matts made to get up and hurry over to his apartment next door, but Mitch scrambled up after him, grabbing his arm. 

“Wait, I’ll come with you.” He added quickly. “You might need reinforcements.”

Auston raised an eyebrow. “My apartment is like twelve steps down the hall.”

“And there could be monsters.” Mitch whispered quietly. 

Auston smirked and started walking out the door, trailed enthusiastically by Mitch (who paused to shout _“Stay!”_ at Willy and Brownie before departing). 

The pair entered Auston’s apartment (not without a lot of key fumbling amidst the pressing darkness) and immediately hit up Auston’s closet, which was well-stocked with flashlights, a fire blanket, an emergency ladder, and pepper spray…

“Shit, Matts.” Mitch muttered. “What exactly did you think you were getting into when you moved to Canada?”

Auston rolled his eyes. “I have a very over-concerned mother.” He admitted, immediately shooting a _don’t you dare judge me, Mitch “not a single flashlight” Marner_ look in his friend’s direction. 

Mitch shrugged and gave a timid smile. “Whatever. It’s adorable.”

Auston felt his face redden and immediately handed Mitch an armful of flashlights and electric candles. 

A couple moments later the two returned to Marner’s apartment, greeted gratefully by Willy and Connor. 

Once they had settled back onto Mitch’s heavily pillowed couch, the teammates quickly found the apartment to be eerily quiet. 

Willy piped up amidst tossing one of Matts’ flashlights from hand to hand. “What do we do now?” He wondered tentatively. 

“Is this what it’s like to live in the Stone Age?” Mitch added flatly, casting his game system a mournful glance. 

“Oh come on guys.” Connor lamented with a laugh. “Power outages are fun! You get to play board games, run around with flashlights, actually talk to people…plus you can shower in the dark…”

Auston shot him a puzzled look. “Not sure about that last one, but a board game sounds not terrible.”

“That’s the spirit, Matts.” Brownie chirped, clapping Auston on the back. “What an optimist.” He added, causing Matthews to roll his eyes. “What do you have in the way of games, Mitch?”

“There might be a really dank _Risk_ game in the cleaning closet, but I’m not certain ‘cause I haven’t really gone in there in at least a month…” Marner admitted thoughtfully. 

Sure enough, there was a dusty, decades-old _Risk_ box in the back corner of Mitch’s underused cleaning closet, and with the assistance of Auston’s height the game was successfully extracted.

After some struggle to read the instructions by flashlight, the teammates managed to assemble the board. 

“So, what’s the purpose of this game?” Auston muttered detachedly, scanning the instructions with a passive expression. 

“You’ve never played?” Connor exclaimed in evident surprise. 

Auston responded with a _sorry, I’ve just too busy becoming a literal hockey god to worry about board games_ kind of shrug. 

Nylander ignored Connor’s flabbergasted expression and chimed, “It’s world domination, Matts. Pure and simple.” giving a subtle flick of his hair for good measure. 

“We’ll go easy on you while you learn.” Mitch promised eagerly, dumping the bags of tiny plastic soldiers out on the board. 

He very quickly regretted those words. 

It was common knowledge that Auston Matthews was an extremely competitive individual. Whether the competition was skating speed, drill retention, food consumption, or song identification, Auston could be relied upon to try damn hard to come out on top. 

And generally, he was successful; his lack of gaming ability seemed his only revealed weakness thus far. 

Therefore, it should not have been surprising that Auston quickly got up to speed on the finer points of _Risk_ , and took it upon himself to destroy his friends at playing the game. 

Methodically, Auston invaded half the territories on the map, eliminating Willy and Connor from the game entirely after just half an hour. 

Mitch proved a harder nut to crack, though, and held stubbornly to his holdings on the other side of the map. 

The tetrad of teammates (even those who had already been eliminated) remained so invested in the game that they didn’t even react to the return of power to the apartment two and a half hours later. They continued to squabble over the board game, Auston slowly making progress in his calculated attempt to beat Mitch. 

Once Mitch’s territory had been whittled down by Auston’s forces into just a handful of soldiers in a trio of countries, the game’s intensity had reached its boiling point. 

“Goddamit, Matts. I will fuckin’ fight you right now if you invade Kamchatka one more time.” Mitch declared furiously, his eyes fixed intensely on the Risk board. 

“He’s gonna do it, Aus.” Connor mused seriously. 

“Ten bucks says Auston flattens Mitchy this turn.” Willy added from his draped upside-down position on Mitch’s couch. 

“Sorry, Mitchy.” Auston chuckled deviously, placing a pair of attackers in Mitch’s beloved Kamchatka. 

“You bastard.” Mitch breathed in overdramatic exasperation. He shot an impish grin back at Matts and proceeded to playfully launch himself in Auston’s direction for a ridiculous mock fight. If it could really be called a fight, as it was mostly just Auston laughing as he deflected Mitch’s attacks away from his face.

Willy and Connor regarded the squabble (which resembled a pair of twelve year olds wrestling on a school playground) with great amusement from the couch. 

“Get him, Mitchy!” Connor reeled through stifled laughter. 

It was at this moment that a pair of visitors entered the apartment unannounced; Kadri and JVR had decided to drop by Mitch’s (apparently unlocked) apartment- one of the only buildings in the city that had regained power- to try and escape the darkness of the outage. 

“Hello?” Naz called inquiringly as he passed through Mitch’s empty kitchen. “Mitch? Auston? Thought you guys were home-“ he cut off mid-sentence as he was greeted in the living room by the sight of a laughing Mitch being held in a headlock by Auston. (Willy and Brownie goading him on unhelpfully from the side)

“What the hell…?” Kadri murmured to himself in disbelief. 

“Rookies.” JVR declared levelly, the corners of his mouth turning upwards in a tiny smile. “It’s safe to say we can still call them that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as usual for reading! 
> 
> Just want to add a nice GO LEAFS GO! (seeing as they play tonight) :p


	5. The Car

Auston was the first to admit that he had a pathological need to be on time. It was a known and accepted fact among Maple Leafs brethren. 

Regardless of whether the event in question was a practice, a game, a ceremony, or a dining reservation, Matthews had a burning need to be the first one through the door. He was known to tie himself up in knots when presented with the possibility of being tardy. 

Therefore, it made absolutely zero sense that Matts had chosen Mitch as his preferred carpool buddy. 

Mitchell Marner was the polar opposite of punctual. His ‘schedule’ was a series of highly unreliable reminders on his phone that were unhelpfully set to go off minutes before he needed to be anywhere. 

As a result, he tended towards arriving at his commitments at the last possible second, avoiding punishment and consequence by the skin of his teeth. (The lack of discipline on the matter was perhaps aided by the fact that no one could bear to punish Mitch once he had flashed one of his lethally innocent smiles).

The problem was, Mitch and Auston’s habit of driving together meant their contrasting views on timeliness often generated complications.

Last week, (after they had avoided being doled a horrendous bag skate during practice by a solid thirty seconds) Auston had taken it upon himself to write the dates and times that they needed to be places directly on Mitch’s hand in permanent marker. Mitch had agreed without objection, allowing Matts to carefully etch all their game and practice times for the next week on to his palm. The system had lasted a mere 24 hours, coming to an anti-climactic end the first time Mitch took a longer-than-average shower. 

Marner had walked out of the bathroom immediately following said cleansing and regarded Auston (who had been reclining on his couch in a half-assed attempt at napping) with an apologetic expression, raising his ink-smeared hand submissively. Auston had just sighed. 

The logical solution, Auston supposed, was to start finding his way to the arena by himself and to leave Mitch to his own late devices; unfortunately, he couldn’t bring himself to do such a thing since their carpooling excursions were such a damn good time. 

When they had first started sharing the driving he and Mitch had mostly talked about hockey; they had shared stats and ideas, bonded over favourite players, reminisced about awesome plays, and lamented Babs’ hard-ass coaching tactics.

Very quickly their discussions had progressed to memes, a topic that reliably sent Mitch (and occasionally, to Mitch’s great delight, Auston) into fits of uncontrollable laughter (It was through these chats that Marner had discovered Matts’ weakness for all things Shrek- related).

But the ultimate piece de resistance of quirky car habits, which made it impossible for Auston to forego his treasured drives with Mitch, was their shared obsession with classic rock. Matts remembered the day they had discovered this commonality vividly. 

Auston had been driving; their destination had been the MasterCard Centre for a mid-week practice. 

At his side, Mitch was excessively reclined (at an overindulgent 45-fucking-degree angle, just to piss Matts off that he was hanging out behind his sight line) and was laughing to himself quietly about something. 

“Would you stop fucking hiding back there and show me what the hell you’re giggling about?” Auston had muttered as coldly as he could muster, smiling despite himself (Mitch’s laugh had that effect on him).

Mitch put his seat back to upright, his face pasted with a ridiculous grin. “Absolutely.” He crooned slyly, wasting no time in connecting his phone to the car’s Bluetooth such that the source of his mirthfulness came over the speakers. 

_“Hit ‘em with the 4 like Auston Matthews….Auston Matthews…. Auston Matthews. Hit ‘em with the 4-“_

“-No fucking way.” Matts interjected flatly, his eyes wide (and slightly mortified) 

“Oh yes fucking way.” Mitch had countered, bursting right back into heavy laughter as the song played on in the background. 

Auston groaned as they pulled up to a red light, whacking his head on the steering wheel a couple of times for good measure. _“Why. does. this. exist.”_

“Because the people of Toronto are fucking amazing, Matts.” Mitch decided, clapping Auston on the back. 

“I swear to god, Mitch, if this song leaves this car-.” 

“Too late.” Marner snickered quietly, causing Auston to swear loudly and then groan even more exasperatedly than before. (The Auston Matthews song would go on to be the number one most played Leafs dressing room track for the next three weeks, to Auston’s immense disgust).

“Just put on something else. _Anything else._ ” Matts begged, fiddling with the car’s sound system as he drove in a desperate attempt to shut the song off. 

Mitch eventually conceded (once he had had enough of laughing) and skipped to his usual playlist. 

The AC/DC track _Thunderstruck_ came over the car’s speakers, changing the atmosphere instantly as soon as the distinctive opening guitar riff became audible. 

“You’re into AC/DC?” Auston quipped in slight surprise, his expression entirely transformed to one of intrigue rather than exasperation. 

Mitch shrugged, “Almost as much as Bon Jovi. Classic rock is my shit.”

Auston cracked a smile and turned up the volume. As the lyrics hit, Mitch began to sing, quietly at first and then more loudly, causing Matts to break into uncharacteristic laughter over his friend’s low-quality, passionate vocalizations. 

Before long, Auston found himself joining in, and the pair of them sang like idiots as they rocketed along the Gardiner Expressway in Auston’s car. 

The good news was that they had uncovered a common interest, (which would make all succeeding car rides even more enjoyable) but the bad news was that Auston had quickly lost track of just how fast they had been driving, unintentionally pressing his foot down more heavily onto the gas pedal with each passing bar of _Thunderstruck._

Just as the song came to an end, Auston realized with a jolt that he had been going over 130km/h, which was apparently much too fast (he wasn’t the greatest with the whole km/h thing, having been raised on mph…) since the sirens of a trailing police car had appeared behind his car. 

Mitch looked back in confusion. “Huh.” He muttered with mild curiosity. “I wonder-“

“Mitch.” Auston murmured drily.

“Yeah?”

“I think it’s for us.”

“Oh shit.” Marner whispered, casting a glance at Auston’s speedometer and gasping sharply. “Dammit, Matts, we’re in a _90 zone!_ ”

“Still not sure what the hell that means!” Auston chirped unhelpfully, rapidly removing his foot from the pedal and attempting to pull over. 

As soon as they were stationary, Matts groaned and put a hand to his forehead, which was even paler than usual. “Babs is gonna kill us for being late.”

Mitch shrugged, “Calm down, Matts. We can get out of this.”

“It’s a driving ticket, Mitch. You can’t just smile your way out of it.”

“Well… _you_ can’t.” Marner decreed with a smirk. 

Auston rolled his eyes, “Not everyone can hold the title of _most adorable pre-pubescent Maple Leaf in Toronto._ ”

Mitch ignored the jab, countering “And not everyone can hold the title of _sulkiest, Calder Trophy-winningest Leafs poster child in the last hundred years_.”

Auston jumped as the cop gave a tap at his window. Beside him, Mitch whispered _“Hit ‘em with the 4 like Auston Matthews”_ as Matts rolled down the glass. 

“Hello, officer!” Mitch exclaimed brightly from the passenger seat before the cop could utter a word. “My good friend _Auston Matthews_ here apologizes for driving quickly. He promises he’ll never do it again. We’d really just love to be on our way to hockey practice so that our dear coach and father figure Michael Babcock doesn’t murder us.”

The officer appeared slightly stunned as he connected exactly _which_ idiotic Toronto 20-year olds he’d caught going forty over on the Gardiner. 

“Auston Matthews and _Mitch…Marner_?” He mumbled bewilderedly, his pen frozen over his notepad. 

“That’s our names.” Mitch replied, smiling a little overzealously. 

The cop regarded them for a moment, his brows creased. Eventually he broke into an understated smile. “My buddies at the station will never believe me…would you mind terribly if we took a picture?”

“Absolutely not!” Auston answered quickly, his voice uncharacteristically energetic. 

Very soon he and Mitch had exited the car and posed for the weirdest selfie of both their young lives (with a police officer…on the Gardiner Expressway) much to the excitement of many of the passing cars. In fact, a traffic jam began to develop as the cars slowed for a better look.

The cop looked very satisfied with himself and cleared his throat. His attention returned to the matter at hand. “Now, about that ticket-“

“I promise I’ll never do it again, sir.” Auston assured the officer rapidly, his attempts at sucking up feeling extraordinarily weak in comparison to Mitch’s well-honed punishment evasion skills. 

“Plus,” Mitch added swiftly, “we can get you tickets to our next game if you let us get to our practice…” 

“Really?” The officer muttered, glancing over his shoulder anxiously as if fearful of getting caught accepting such a bribe. “I suppose you gents were still driving somewhat safely, even if your pace was a little fast…”

“I’ll mail you a signed puck.” Matts chimed in pleasantly, getting him a small smile and nod of approval from Mitch. 

The cop had eventually conceded, (likely having been put over the edge by the signed Matthews puck) and Mitch and Auston had made it to their practice only 15 minutes late; it wasn’t a terrible score, all things considered, though they had still been put through bag skate hell for it. 

At least they had gotten a pretty good _that one time we talked our way out of a ticket_ story out of the whole thing. 

Auston reflected on that day as he waited, as usual, for Mitch to be ready so they could depart for practice. He ignored his rising feelings of panic at the prospect of being late and thought instead of Mitch belting out _Thunderstruck_ in the passenger seat of his car. 

_Yeah_ , Auston reflected simply, _I wouldn’t change a thing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, any feedback is highly appreciated. ;) In particular, I'd love to know if you prefer the comedic bits or the growing-relationship/borderline romantic bits. 
> 
> If anyone's curious, here's the link to the Auston Matthews song (it exists!)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TMUhQLYnY9M
> 
> Also, shoutout to the boys for winning 4-1 last night! (though poor Mitch couldn't buy a goal!)
> 
> Thanks for reading and check back for updates! :)


	6. The Plane

“No _freaking_ way.” Auston teased disbelievingly. “Mitchell Marner, the most juvenile twenty-year-old I’ve ever met, has never been to _Disney World_?”

“What? Mitch returned, raising his hands in concession. “I haven’t gotten around to going there, so what?”

Auston flashed his usual, understated smile at Mitch. “It’s adorable to me that the single person that I know would most enjoy that place has never been and is about to experience it for the first time.”

Mitch rolled his eyes, “I take it from the obvious shade you’re throwing at me right now that you’ve been before?” 

Matts smiled, his expression one of fond recollection. “Try every other year for my entire childhood. My family’s obsessed.”

Mitch smirked as he tossed a pair of sweatpants into his suitcase. “ _I_ don’t have a pair of sisters back home.”

Auston raised an eyebrow at him. “Sisters have nothing to do with it.”

“I thought Disney World was all princess castles and shit,” Mitch exclaimed curiously, giving a hoodie that he had plucked off the floor a sniff before squishing it into his suitcase with his sweatpants. “Don’t get me wrong,” he added hastily, “I love Disney movies- the Lion King was badass- but from the pictures Disney World always seems full of little kids, strollers and creepy people in costumes with huge heads.”

Auston considered this image for a moment. “Technically you’re not wrong…but there’s also awesome rides, great food, themed hotels, monorails, cool shows-“

“Who are you and what have you done with Auston Matthews.” Mitch smirked with a choked laugh. “How are you the same guy that chirped my coconut body wash ten minutes ago.”

“You just seem like more of a lavender kind of guy…“ Matts decided to add lightheartedly, causing Mitch to flip him off. “Anyways,” Auston continued, flopping onto Mitch’s bed, ”It doesn’t matter; my point is you’re going to love Disney.”

“If you say so.” Mitch conceded with a small smile as he packed a pair of swim trunks covered in pineapples. 

“I know so. Disney is sacred.” Matts declared definitively, his expression utterly serious. 

Marner cast him a look that was equal parts amused and confused, but said nothing as he attempted to zip up his overflowing suitcase.

* * *

Auston had kind of assumed he wouldn’t be getting back to Disney World any time in the near future. Being an NHL hockey player simply didn’t leave time for such things. 

But then there was an NHL showcase event happening in Florida. And then it was being hosted by the Walt Disney World Resort’s sports complex. And then the Toronto Maple Leafs (as an exceedingly popular Original Six team) got invited to go. 

Suddenly, Auston found himself at Pearson boarding the team jet bound for Orlando, surrounded by his teammates. 

The Maple Leafs Jet was a very familiar environment for all the players, since they boarded it several times each week for flights to their away games, but the atmosphere was a little different for this flight. 

Normally on-flight activities included napping, listening to music, talking amongst themselves quietly, or movie-watching. 

Today, in the face of a four-day break at Disney World, excitement edging on chaos reigned. 

Willy had taken it upon himself to randomly creep up behind his buddies and chant Disney songs at unexpected moments. It started with a crescendo of _“hakuna, matata, hakuna, matata,”_ directed at an over-stressed Morgan Rielly; it escalated with a creepy, whispered chant of _“can you paint with all the colours of the wind….”_ into an unsuspecting Kadri’s ear; it reached its pinnacle when Nylander appeared (apparently out of nowhere) at the side of a sleeping Komarov and hollered _“MISTER I’LLLLLL, MAKE A MANNNN, OUT OF YOUUUUU!”_

The latter caused Leo to seize Willy in a reflexive, half-asleep headlock, which incited chants of _“fight, fight, fight!”_ from the nearby Leafs. A play-fight might have ensued, had Babcock not marched over and instructed them all to can it or be ready to give him five hundred push-ups at their next practice. 

Since Babs couldn’t be everywhere, mayhem continued to rear its head on the other side of the plane. 

Gardiner claimed to spot a spider on Hainsey’s seat and reacted accordingly, frantically instructing those nearby to “squash the tiny bastard”. For nearly ten minutes several Leafs hovered helpfully nearby with shoes in hand, but the tiny beast did not reappear. 

All the while Morgan Rielly was trying (and failing) over the general ruckus to get some help piecing together room assignments for their Disney resort (because ten minutes ago Babs had handed him a clipboard and muttered _“figgur’ out where ta put all the guys so they don’t kill each other, will ya?”_ and no one says no to Mike Babcock). 

Meanwhile, Auston was trying unsuccessfully to shut his eyes and drown out the commotion with his headphones, as usual. After an eternity of hopelessly feigning rest, he conceded and slipped the headphones off.

He immediately observed that Mitch (who was crouched in the seat in front of him) had stealthily hijacked Patty’s laptop and was editing famous vines into Toy Story.

“You know that Jagger and Caleb will probably watch this.” He muttered from over Mitch’s shoulder, cracking an amused smile. 

“It’s all clean, I promise.” Marns replied candidly. “I’m doing my brotherly duty and culturing them.”

Matts rolled his eyes. “Toy Story is already culture.”

“Point,” Mitch conceded. 

At that instant, Mo, appearing flustered, materialized at their side. 

“Hey guys…so I’ll put _you_ ,” he muttered, gesturing at Matts, “in Bungalow 6, and you, Mitchy, in Bungalow 8…”

Mitch and Auston immediately shot him mirrored looks of confusion. 

“I’m kidding,” Mo reassured them quickly, “You’re both in 7.”

Matts tried to bury his expression of relief. 

“You had me worried there, Riles,” Mitch countered smoothly. “For a second I thought you didn’t have the sense to keep Aus and I together, co-dependent as we are.”

Rielly raised his eyebrows tacitly, “It was perhaps against my better judgement, but I’ve stuck you two with Willy, Zach, Brownie and Freddy.”

“It’s gonna be lit.” Mitch declared quickly, his smile devious. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Mo moaned exasperatedly as he wandered along to the next row. 

Mitch immediately turned to fist-bump Auston, who obliged without hesitation. 

“He said _bungalow_!” Mitch whispered sharply, his excitement palpable. 

Auston raised an eyebrow at him, finding his friend’s rising excitement strangely endearing. “Why is _that_ what you’re hung up on?”

“Because no one goes places and stays in bungalows; it’s kinda fuckin’ cool.”

“Fair,” Matts agreed with a small laugh. “Just wait until you see _actual Disney stuff_ …”

At that moment, a foam football bounced off the side of Auston’s head, souring his expression. “Of course,” he added flatly, “that will require us surviving the rest of this frickin’ insane plane ride.”

Mitch laughed brightly in reply, and the sound caused Auston’s heart to constrict with unexpected pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Disney World fic does, in fact, now exist. 
> 
> Click [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13379415/chapters/30642684) to read it!


	7. The Cat

Auston and Mitch’s relationship was a work-in-progress. It had been that way for the past three months, ever since they had returned from Florida with a new relationship status. Real progress was nearly impossible, since they hadn’t exactly gotten around to telling the entirety of the team yet. Or the City of Toronto. Or Mitch’s mom. 

_Baby steps,_ Auston figured. 

Their living status was also a bit of a work-in-progress. Mitch, after coming to the realization that he now spent at least twice as much time in Auston’s apartment as his own, had elected to start hauling his crap over to Matts’ apartment. A few boxes and items at a time. 

Auston didn’t really mind. His apartment was a fucking mess, but he would deal. There was no point in paying for two apartments when they only needed one, he figured. 

Conversely, Mitch’s place was now awkwardly empty, to the point where it apparently creeped him out and he refused to go in anymore. 

“I think it’s haunted, Aus.” Mitch mumbled one night from Auston’s lap while they played grand theft auto. “Whenever I go back for boxes things move.”

“Mitchy, it’s not fucking haunted,” Matts mused with a laugh. “And we just need a couple spoons from your drawer,” he insisted encouragingly, “unless you _want_ to do dishes.”

“Fucking nope,” Mitch responded with a scowl. 

Auston smirked, “Well, if you want dinner you need to live up to your nickname and get us some spoons.”

Mitch rolled his eyes at Matts. “Just come with me.”

Auston conceded with a groan and shoved Marns off his lap. “Fine. But _only_ because I’m starving.”

Mitch let out a whoop and leapt to his feet, scrambling over to the hooks by the door where he kept his apartment key. He flung the door open and glanced back over his shoulder, “Let’s go, lazy-ass!”

Auston raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend’s ridiculous behaviour. “ _You’re_ the lazy one who won’t go into his own apartment.” He chided teasingly, following Mitch down the hall regardless. 

A moment later they were in Mitch’s mostly-empty kitchen, flinging open drawers together in search of clean spoons. 

“Fuck,” Mitch muttered as the fifth drawer he checked came up empty. “I must have packed them up already.”

Auston just leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, minorly enjoying Mitch’s search. 

“You’re cute when you’re angsty.” He murmured as Mitch slammed a drawer rather loudly. 

“Shut up and go check the boxes in my room.” He instructed, a smidgeon of colour visible on his cheeks. 

Auston shrugged and obeyed, ambling over to the bedroom. He stepped unreactively over an open, mostly-eaten bag of Cheetos as he walked over the threshold. 

He noticed a rather sharp odour as he entered the room and grimaced slightly before continuing his search, chocking the stench up to Mitch’s lack of cleaning ability. He was rifling through the top box in a rather large stack when there was a shuffling sound behind him. 

“Mitch?” he uttered absentmindedly. There was no reply

The shuffle repeated itself. 

Auston glanced half-assedly over his shoulder at the box that sat on Mitch’s stripped bed, expecting it to be empty. 

He let out a strangled cry and leapt back, knocking over half the box tower in the process and mumbling “ _shit_ repeatedly.

On the bed, something small and black as coal crawled out of the box.

* * *

Mitch heard a tremendous crash from the direction of his room and immediately grew panicked, images of Auston being crushed under his stupid box tower filling his brain as he sprinted over.

He almost bowled Matts over as he bolted through the doorway. Instead they half-collided rather awkwardly, causing Auston to grunt. Mitch grabbed his boyfriend’s shoulders to steady himself, his face reddened and his breaths shallow. 

He was about to open his mouth and tear Auston to shreds for nearly giving him a heart attack when he froze, realizing that Matts was holding something dark and fuzzy. 

The object was, in fact, _not_ an object, but a living creature. A small black kitten, in fact. It lifted its head and regarded Mitch with tiny, beady blue eyes and mewed pathetically, exposing a bright pink mouth and two rows of needle-like teeth. 

“What the _actual_ fuck.” Mitch stammered flatly, eyeing the kitten with intense suspicion. 

Auston, the asshole, looked incredibly pleased with himself. “I think I found the source of the weird noises.” He declared simply. 

“ _No fucking way_.” Marns cursed. “How the hell did it get in here?” 

Auston shrugged and gave a small smile. “Who knows. But he’s probably been in there a while- that room smells like a fucking litterbox and it looks like he’s been eating your cheetos.” He added with a smirk, causing Mitch to frown. “When’s the last time you went in there?”

“Two or three…” Mitch muttered, trailing off. 

“Two or three what?”

“Weeks.”

“ _Mitch!_ ” 

“What?” Marns countered, offended. “I’ve been at your place every fucking night! The real problem is what the hell do we do with this little shit?” he muttered unhappily, gesturing at the kitten in Auston’s arms. 

Matts turned up his nose, offended. “He’s not a little shit. His name is Ow.”

“ _Ow?_ ” Mitch admonished, smiling like a lunatic. “What the fuck kind of name is that?”

“It’s the noise he made when I picked him up.”

“Also, how do you know it’s a he?” Mitch countered insistently, raising his eyebrows. 

Matts shrugged, “I just have a feeling.”

Mitch sighed, eyeing the kitten grumpily. It had ears that were abnormally small and eyes that looked murderous, he decided. 

“Don’t go getting attached.” He mumbled at Auston, who was stroking the kitten between the ears with his pointer finger. “I’m calling animal control and it’s going away.”

Auston immediately fixed his poutiest, most dramatic expression on Mitch. He exhaled in brief consideration before muttering quietly, “I want to keep him.”

Marns recoiled, open-mouthed. “But I _hate_ cats, Aus!” 

“Because you’ve never had one!” He insisted zealously. “Just look how nice he is- you can pet him, and cuddle him, and hold him like fucking _Simba_.” He crooned, holding Ow above his head in the classic pose and shooting Mitch an endearingly pleased look as he did so. 

Mitch stared at Auston’s display, arms crossed and still mildly unimpressed. “Cats are nasty assholes who just want to bite you and piss in your house.” He muttered bitterly. 

“Ow won’t piss anywhere except the nice big litterbox we’re going to buy...right, Ow?” Auston quipped, enraptured, as he stared down at the kitten. On cue, the feline looked up and squeaked at Matts. To Mitch’s intense disgust, it _did_ sound like he was saying fucking ‘ _Ow_ ’.

Marns sensed he was losing this battle, but in a last-ditch effort to keep Auston’s apartment cat-free he muttered, “what the fuck will you do with him when we’re away for weeks at a time?”

“I’ll hire a cat-sitter.” Auston replied easily, still gazing at Ow with disgusting adoration. 

Mitch groaned dramatically and placed his head in his hands. “If this _has_ to be a thing at least keep him the fuck out of our bedroom.” He grumbled grimly. 

“Deal.” Matts answered cheerfully, clutching Ow against his chest. 

Mitch watched as Auston marched back out into the hallway with unusual vigor, muttering “ _Hear that, bud? You get to come home with us!_ ” in his weirdly cheery voice that was usually reserved exclusively for little kids. 

Mitch groaned again.

* * *

For the few days, Mitch avoided Ow like the plague. Auston, who was becoming increasingly enamoured, bought an enormous cat tree, a thousand cat toys and a Leafs collar with a jingly bell on it over the course of the week. 

For the most part, the cat stayed out of Mitch’s way, usually choosing to lounge politely by the window or on top of the fridge. Sometimes Ow nestled into Auston’s lap while they were playing video games, which wouldn’t have been a problem except that that was…well, _Mitch’s_ place. 

After Marns returned home one day to find Auston asleep on the couch with Ow on his chest, he caught himself glaring at the feline and wondered, _am I jealous of a fucking cat?_

After a week, Matts dragged Ow _and_ Mitch to the vet. It was difficult to say who was _more_ unhappy about the situation. Ow got his vaccines, a check-up and some expensive cat food, and Mitch got…the satisfaction of being a good boyfriend, he supposed?

By the 10-day mark, Mitch came to the realization that he maybe didn’t hate Ow entirely. The cat had, miraculously, failed to bite or scratch him. And Auston had trained him to fetch, which was kind of cool. 

One day, it was Auston who came home to an interesting cat scene. Mitch had passed out on their bed for a pre-game nap, and a familiar furry ebony blob had settled onto the small of his back. Marns appeared to be completely unaware of the situation. 

Matts smiled to himself and snapped a stealthy picture. 

_So much for no cats in the bedroom,_ he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sigh*
> 
> I miss the Leafs. Writing this (the first chapter in a while for this collection) was kind of nice therapy. 
> 
> Please let me know if you liked it; it might motivate me to do some more!


End file.
